Archive for March 2008

The legendary automat has had a long and rich history in New York and other big American and European cities. These automated eateries, which allowed customers to purchase their food from coin-operated slots and eat them in a communal cafeteria-type setting, enjoyed their heyday in the first half of the 20th Century, peaking during the office worker boom of the 1950s. By the 70s, McDonalds and take-out had rendered the automat all but useless, and you’d be hard-pressed to find one, in New York or anywhere else. But a few years ago, that all changed with the opening of Bamn! Inspired by a new generation of Dutch automats serving fast comfort food like burgers and sandwiches, entrepreneurs David Leong and Nobu X decided to revitalize this hibernating tradition in New York, and the results are nothing less than delightful.

Bamn!’s fluorescent pink-lit, glowing design gives it a futuristic, otherworldly feel, and draws people in from the street out of sheer curiosity. It seems to be part of a new trend of modern-looking, Japanese-influenced, colorful fast food places in the neighborhood, and so far, it seems like the locals (mostly NYU students) are eating it up. With their stand-up tables and window serving beverages and Pommes Frites with a crazy variety of dipping sauces, Bamn! makes a perfectly wonderful place to stay and eat, though you could also take your food on the go, thanks to its extreme portability. The purchasing of the food is half the fun, of course, and change machines ensure that you won’t find yourself quarterless and desperately clawing at the glass standing between you and your dinner. The sometimes Asian-influenced comfort food offerings are constantly changing, but some items that make frequent appearances are grilled cheese, mini burgers, mac and cheese croquettes, and Chinese-style roasted pork buns. Nothing here is particularly mind-blowing, but it will satisfy your greasy-salty cravings capably.

The food is a tad overpriced (averaging $2.50 an item), especially since the potions are tiny and you need to buy three or four items if you really want to make a meal of it. It’s best to come here when you’re on your way somewhere and haven’t had a chance to eat, or when the late-night munchies strike you on your way home from the bar. It is at these drunken times that Bamn! really shines, because you can lurch up to the vending area and spend as long as you want deciding, then order without having to annoy any staff members with your speech-slurring ways. Frankly, I don’t know why automats aren’t still a New York staple, considering our collective love of speedy service. Maybe Bamn! will inspire a series of imitators, and we will enjoy a second golden age of convenience.

A lot of the cooler bars in Park Slope are clustered in the North end, but with Commonwealth on their side, South Slopers can proudly lay claim to one of the best. Even Manhattanites, with all the options available to them on that most accommodating of isles, will cross the bridge for a night of debauchery, Commonwealth-style.

Why, you may ask, does Commonwealth continue to draw in tipplers from around the five boroughs? For one thing, the patio is awesome, with its giant umbrella which has to be seen to be believed. Smokers congregate out there and engage in intense conversations that often end up sucking in nearby tables, and a unique community atmosphere is born. Or perhaps it’s the unusually excellent jukebox, or the endlessly entertaining “Brutally Honest Personal Ads,” which allow angry young hipsters to vent their frustrations in clever satires on the standard personal ad, all under the watchful eye of a weirdly appropriate mugshot of a disheveled Nick Nolte. Some of the constantly changing ads are real calls for guff-free romance, and some are just for entertainment and/or enlightenment, but all are good for a laugh.

Another thing that keeps people coming back is the interesting selection of specialty mixed drinks (all worth a taste), though I am more of a beer person, and I have no complaints as far as the draft selection goes. I dropped in with my boyfriend the other night, as we often do on date nights, due to both the closeness of the bar and the comfortable atmosphere. Unlike many Park Slope bars, it doesn’t get so loud you resort to screaming your voice away just to order a drink, and you can usually snag a table if you are willing to hover over a departing party for ten minutes or so. We managed to pounce on a tiny table in the back of the bar, and while we tipped back a few rounds of Sierra Nevadas (our mutual favorite), we were again reminded of all the reasons we like this bar.

You can order a drink without getting attitude back from the bartender or the clientele (sadly, rare in a lot of hipper Brooklyn bars), take your time drinking it without being hassled, you won’t be hit on by skeezy greasy guys or drunken club girls, and most importantly, when you overhear the conversations of the tables next to you, they’re often interesting and intelligent. Part of this is due to the fact that Commonwealth attracts a fairly diverse crowd: old and young, rich and poor, professors and busboys all share tables and cigarettes here. It’s not unusual to come in on a weekday afternoon and find the bartender deeply in conversation with middle-aged, well-off regulars and authors scribbling away at their poems and manuscripts. It’s this old world, university bar sort of feeling that I feel when I’m on my third drink, feeling half-cheesed, and delighting in a snippet of overheard debate on the merits of Proust or Ionesco. Call it pretension if you must, but sometimes you need a little PBS in your diet.

As it is, at its most basic level, an unapologetic sports bar, Park Slope's 200 Fifth is ideal for nights when it’s just the guys, or anytime you’re with a big group of friends and need someplace that does double duty as a bar and eatery. The moment you walk in, you’re greeted by just scads of TVs blaring a constant rotation of sporting events. Like any good sports bar, they’re always willing to change the channel on the TV nearest you to your favorite team’s game, barring any objections from dissidents. The bar and restaurant are separated so as not to annoy each other, which is a plus when you were expecting a quiet dinner and unexpectedly showed up on a big game night, complete with roaring feedback from the bar crowd.

Standard bar fare is 200 Fifth’s bread and butter, so to speak, with ten (yes, ten) ounce burgers, fresh seafood and decent wings making up the majority of the dishes I saw flying off the line. But Chef Mendy’s menu includes some unique dishes that offer a bit more variety than yet another bar burger, however capably crafted. I recommend you start with the Saffron Mussel Ragout, which is topped with a crispy risotto cake, or the 200 Fifth Clams, which are a favorite of regulars. Entrées include everything from authentic, slow-smoked barbeque to pasta and more excellent seafood. Try the Trout Du Jour (I love that there’s a whole daily menu devoted to trout) or go all out and indulge in the 14 ounce New York steak. 200 Fifth’s brunch menu offers a pretty typical assortment of egg dishes and the like, but I feel strongly about pairing good brunch with good cocktails, and where better to ensure you’ll get a quality Bloody Mary than a freaking bar?

Speaking of booze (and I often am), I haven’t even gotten to the best part about 200 Fifth. They have not ten, not fifteen, but 40, count ‘em, 40 beers on tap. And with a deal offering a sampler of six 4.5-ounce beers on the menu, you can afford to experiment. Among the 40 draft beers, all available at the very reasonable price of $3.50 a pint, are Arrogant Bastard Ale (California), Monty Python's Holy grAIL (England), Victory Hop Devil (Pennsylvania), and one of my very favorites, Six Point Sweet Action (Brooklyn, NY). Call it Brooklyn pride or an affinity for the racy indie magazine of the same name, but I likes me some Sweet Action.

So whether you’re looking for a place to while away a few hours with your buddies after work, or planning a lengthy night of eating and drinking, you can’t really go wrong with a place like 200 Fifth. Sure, it’s generic, and you could find the same type of atmosphere at a TGI Friday’s if you were really desperate. But all of the things that people hate about big chains (impersonal service, high prices, obnoxious families everywhere), 200 Fifth avoids for the most part. If you’re looking for a precious hole in the wall that screams local character and would make your foodie friends jealous, this ain’t it. But if you’re just looking for some wings, some cheap beers and a few hours of reversion to your college days, look no further.

When you find yourself in Park Slope, whether you’re with friends or on a date or even on a pleasant day out alone, it’s almost a rule that you have to stop for some coffee. One place I find myself coming to again and again is Ozzie's Coffee and Tea on Fifth Avenue, not necessarily due to its quality or its atmosphere, but simply because of its gargantuan size. Ozzie's Seventh Avenue location, a converted pharmacy, is quieter and preferred by regulars, but the Fifth Avenue one is, as I said, sprawling (by New York standards). Thus, it has more of a community hub feel, with the flyers and community newspapers by the door and the constant stream of incoming young people, plus it offers plenty of tucked-away alcoves for you to hide out in when you just feel like crawling up with a good book. Both locations are known for their relative lack of pretension, and for the fact that you can chill out as long as you want without feeling pressured to leave, unlike bustling mommy-and-stroller havens like Tea Lounge.

Ozzie’s is known equally for its coffee and its tea, and purists insist that plain coffee or loose tea is your best bet for a beverage here. As far as coffees go, Ozzie’s Blend is organic and fair trade, as are most of their other beans, from Sumatra Mandheling to Colombian Supremo. They do their roasting in-house, which means the intoxicating aroma of freshly crushed coffee beans surrounds the store like an aura, enticing you in from the street with promises of rich flavors and sweet caffeine.

I like to come here when I’m out on my own, shopping or whatnot, and need a break. The iced coffee here is strong and perfect for those sweltering summer days, plus the painting of a giant, dripping iced coffee on the front windows of the store incites a near-Pavlovian reaction from me every time. But Ozzie’s fresh fruit smoothies, iced chai, and blended coffee drinks, which are way cheaper than frapps, also hit the spot when the temperature soars.

Now for the downsides. Ozzie’s charges for Wi-Fi, which is kind of dumb when it’s offered in basically all the other area cafés for free. The Fifth Avenue store gets REALLY hot during the summer, to the point where I tip the baristas double out of sheer pity as I watch sweat drip down their faces. Cleanliness falls behind fairly often (think overflowing trash cans), and general maintenance drops when there’s any kind of a rush (the all-important, but much too small, summertime water pitcher goes dry for hours at a time as thirsty patrons gaze at it longingly). All this despite the fact that there are obviously a ton of employees running around looking confused, which points to the larger problem -- that Ozzie’s tends to hire young, inexperienced workers willing to work for a song, but who are oftentimes completely inept. Another major problem is that they only offer paper cups for their beverages, and even use paper plates for their food, which is both environmentally irresponsible and, well, tacky.

All those negatives aside, Ozzie’s has a lot going for it. The coffee is dependably good, the food is decent if not outstanding (try the red velvet cake), and, most importantly, it’s a giant, thriving coffee shop. People-watching here never grows old, and there are usually a lot of cute single people hanging out. Plus, Fridays they host Open Mic night, so you can kick back a few espresso shots and get down with your Seattle side while you listen to grungy amateur acoustic guitarists sing about feelings. There’s something to be said for a place where that kind of atmosphere is still alive and well.

It was last summer, on one of those balmy evenings that makes you glad you live in a pedestrian town. I was walking up Fifth Avenue in Brooklyn, probably running an errand or going on a torta run at nearby Girasol Bakery, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a new bar, right in my neighborhood! A neat-looking logo announced the place as Quarter Bar, and a quick glance in the window confirmed that the place was a classy new joint, the likes of which you’d find in Williamsburg or Manhattan. With the exception of a few newish places like Living Room, the bar options in my neighborhood are usually limited to the Tabern Salvadoreño down the street and a perpetually empty sports bar, so this was welcome news.

I gathered up my posse and headed over to Quarter Bar the next chance I got. The first thing we noticed is the remodeled interior, which is warm and wood-paneled, with tasteful antique accents lending an old timey feeling. That combined with the meat pies listed on the menu next to the pints give you the distinct sensation you’ve stepped into olde time London by mistake. The skillful bartender in residence seems to be the only person running the place, and on the rare occasions that I’ve seen someone else tending bar, he’s been sitting right across from them, having a drink. Now that’s dedication. But beyond dedication, it’s his craftsmanship that’s gained him fans and followers. The specialty drinks are the real draw at Quarter Bar for this reason, and the fact that they are made with quality ingredients (the Hot Buttered Rum doesn’t skimp on the real butter) and eschew the sickly-sweet, unlike a great number of bars. However, the above-average beer selection is a godsend for someone like me, for whom mixed drinks, although delicious, are basically a hangover in a glass.

We migrated to the back patio, which seems to usually be where the party is. Wooden benches, tables and chairs surround an oddly appropriate bathtub planter under the watchful eye of some poor neighbor’s back porch. The community atmosphere really gets going once the second round of 2-for-1 Happy Hour drinks sets in. People start bumming cigarettes, joining in each others’ conversations, sharing drunken advice and newspapers. One time a girl who was leaving even gave me her second drink, a towering Hefeweizen, which I was happy to accept. After the second beer or so, pies start appearing on the patrons’ tables. These small empanada-like delicacies are crafted with care by local baker Dub Pies, and are made in the style of New Zealand’s and Australia’s hugely popular bar food. I have to admit, I can’t think of a much better accompaniment to a cold beer.

After four beers and a couple trips to the jukebox, we left the bar with pockets still jingling, half-cheesed and ready for whatever the night had in store for us. What more can you ask from happy hour?